


The Babysitting Detective

by atarashiishousetsuka



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Babysitting, Cute, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Uncle Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atarashiishousetsuka/pseuds/atarashiishousetsuka
Summary: Sherlock Holmes' babysitting skills are tested when John Watson suddenly has to leave 221B Baker street for an appointment. Cute and humorous one-shot, series four of the TV program Sherlock.





	

**The Babysitting Detective**

'For god's sake, Sherlock. It's only twenty minutes! Twenty!'

'That is a total of 1200 seconds... do you have any idea how long that is?' the detective replied. John sighed loudly, feeling irritated. Sherlock crossed his legs while sitting in his leather arm chair.

'She is asleep! You just have to let her sleep, okay?! I am back in no time!' he kept whispering, but spoke with frustration.

'No, you are back after 1200 loooong seconds.' John closed his eyes, feeling anger entering his body.

'She is asleep, Sherlock,' he said firmly. 'Believe me, Rosie will most likely not wake up.'

'Most likely, which means I have no hundred percent guarantee that she doesn't.'

'If she wakes up, you pick her up, give her the pacifier and walk around for a bit with her in the room. You can hold her hands and rub her over the back. I will be back before you know it and I will check if she is hungry or will need a diaper change. Okay?!'

 _Hands. John just mentioned hands._ Sherlock pressed the palms of his hands together. He was suddenly deep in thought, somewhere in his mind palace. _Wait, the case! Mrs. McFadden's hands were both chopped off and we found them later in a radius of 100 meters from the body. Henna was put on those hands, but it was fresh. Applied not long ago. The woman was already handless and dead when they were painted. Thus, the killer painted the henna on the chopped off hands. I am an idiot, why didn't I see that earlier?! Even John could have noticed that!_

'That's not that difficult, right? So, can I leave now?' the doctor asked hopeful. John looked at his watch. 'I have to be there in ten minutes, Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson is out grocery shopping, Molly is at work. I know this appointment I have is sudden, but I cannot take her with me! She is finally sleeping! Please!'

Sherlock still sat unmoved in his brown chair, eyes closed. John grabbed his coat from the peg, when he got no answer.

'Thanks, Sherlock. I appreciate the sincere help you offer me,' he growled and left the house on the Baker street. Yes, he was worried. But before he left, he had fed Rosie and already given her a diaper change. The chances she'd wake up were small. _Only twenty minutes,_ he thought.

John sighed as he took large steps on the wet the pavement. Everything was so different now that Mary was not here anymore.

\---

Sherlock suddenly was brought back to reality and out of his mind palace.

A little bewildered, he looked around his room. He needed to go back to the mortuary and see those hands again. There could be clues written in henna!

'John!' he shouted. No reply. Again, louder. 'Joooohn!' Nothing. With reluctance, he got out his comfortable chair to look for the man. Then, a screaming noise came out of the bedroom. A groan escaped his mouth. He remembered now.

Panic took control of his body as he walked to the room with heavy legs. He had woken her up because he shouted for John who was not even here. Sherlock face palmed, realizing what a fool he was. He opened the door carefully, although that did not have any effect anymore. The baby cried big tears and kicked with her little legs.

 _Did John tell him what to do? Yes, I heard him saying something vaguely when I was thinking about my case just now. What did he say? Something about hands, that was the only thing he could remember._ He could bonk his head against the wall, he was an idiot. _Well, what would John do? he thought, still panicking. Pick the little human creature up? Yes, most likely._

He reached out, bringing his arms closer to the crying baby.

'Rosie, please stop crying. I'm begging you. I have no idea how to handle you.'

The baby continued crying and he picked her up. Do not ask how, but he managed to hold her in a way she did not suffocate and wouldn't fall out of his arms.

'You are such a tiny human creature,' he said, as if he was doing research by observation. The baby was still crying, but with less volume.

Big eyes watched Sherlock as he took the girl to the living room and he sat back in his warm chair.

'Thank you for quitting your alarm,' he said to her when the last tears rolled down her face. His ears were exhausted.

'So…,' he began. 'Can you go back to sleep now? Please? I will get you back to your crib.'

The baby just glanced at him, then brought her hand to his nose to investigate the out sticking flesh.

'Already researching ways how humans can die. Yes, if you keep my nose and my mouth covered long enough, no oxygen can enter the body and I will die.' The fingers kept his nostrils closed. 'Seriously, that is quite some power you are showing me.'

He removed the little hand from his nose, only to see the tiny little fingers.

'How small,' he commented. He took them in his. The baby laughed.

'Really. I am not sure what to do now. Shall I tell you about my thoughts on the Henna killer? I know, John always comes up with stupid names for the cases. He says my 'fans' like sensational titles. Well, I personally came up with this one. What do you think?' he looked back at the girl in tiny pink clothes.

The baby's eyes were fixed on the human skull on the little wooden side table next to the chair.

'Not an interesting title, I presume you mean to say. Fine, then John can come up with one.'

She let out another laugh.

'Yes, I know. Your father's imagination is extraordinary.'

Fast and loud footsteps were heard on the staircase. The door to Sherlock's room was opened with a high speed.

'I heard Rosie when I opened the front door. What is wrong, Sherlock?!' John almost shouted, sweat drops on his forehead and eyes that showed great concern. There seem to be anger in his voice as well.

Sherlock blinked a few times. He glanced at the baby and then at the father. The baby let out a happy noise when she saw her old man.

'I told her how extraordinary your imagination was. She thought it was hilarious.'

John stood there, watched how his daughter sat on the lap of his friend and how Sherlock hold her hands. He smiled and crossed his arms.

'Really? I have been concerned whether you would survive. Or whether Rosie would survive, to be more precise.' It was clear how relieved he felt, he panicked twenty minutes for nothing. Sherlock had positively surprised him. 'I now know where I can take Rosie when I have another sudden appointment,' John joked, settling down in the chair opposite of Sherlock. 'As long as you do not gossip about me to my daughter, like you did today.'

Sherlock said nothing, but snorted as a reply.

'We cannot promise that, now can we, Rosie?' he asked the sleeping baby in his lap and gave John a smirk.

\- END -

**Author's Note:**

> A/N  
> Hi there! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I am not a native English speaker, if you find grammar mistakes, please let me know! Thank you very much :D  
> Find me on tumblr!  atarashiishousetsuka.tumblr.com 


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